When A Canadian Thinks He's Depressed
by lysetletrille
Summary: What happens when Matthew decides that he is depressed and chooses to act upon it?


**I was a bit tired of reading all of these depressed Canada fic so I wrote one of my own. I know, my logic makes no sense. Also, I wasn't going to include Prussia when I first started writing but Mr Awesome has a mind of its own.  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Canada. Or Prussia. Or any other country really... *secretly considers world domination***

**Enjoy!**

Matthew was sick of it all. He was sick of being invisible; sick of being ignored; sick of being forgotten… He was sick of feeling so insignificant all the fucking time. Hell, he was simply sick. Sick, sick, sick, sick, sick. He was so sick that the word held no meaning anymore.

When he didn't feel sick, Matthew felt like crawling in a dark corner for a while and not move. He didn't necessarily want to cry or mope; he simply didn't want to move. During those times he felt like he had no energy to do or feel anything. These were the days where he would stay in bed till late afternoon and only emerge when his hunger became too much to handle.

He often caught himself wondering "what is the point of living?".

For these many reasons, the Canadian thought himself to be depressed. And as a depressed person he decided to do what all depressed persons do.

After a typical and boring world meeting, Matthew returned to his hotel room, not even bothering to try to get noticed by his "family". He opened his bathroom drawer as soon as he arrived and picked up a razor. It was time to cut himself.

For two minutes, the Canadian stared at razor, unsure of how the whole cutting thing was supposed to happen. Did he just turn the razor on and bring it to his forearm? Was there a special way to cut? Was he supposed to be crying the whole time? A little uncertain about himself, Matthew turned the razor on. He frowned when nothing happened. The device was as unresponsive as it was seconds before. Puzzled, he pressed the on button a second and third time. Still, nothing happened. That's when he noticed that the razor was supposed to be plugged-in. He blushed in embarrassment as he put the razor down. It didn't matter anyway, he decided, if the device worked or not. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to cut himself. It seemed like such a waste of time at the moment and he failed to see how it could mean anything.

That night, the Canadian had a dreamless sleep. He woke-up feeling the same as usual and quickly packed his stuff before heading to the airport. The meeting was over and he was going home.

His second attempt at being depressed hadn't had much more successful results. Matthew somehow got a hold of a full box of painkillers. He had decided that he was in emotional pain and needed the painkillers to get rid of his emotional baggage, even if it was only for one night. As he held five little white pills in his hand, Matthew thought about his family members. He thought about how Francis only remembered him when he wanted to rub into England's face that he was a better father than the Englishman could ever be. He remembered all the times Arthur mistook him for Alfred or could not seem to see Matthew even when the boy was right in front of him. He recalled all the times when Alfred, his own twin brother, had tilted his head and asked "Who?".

A weird feeling seemed to overtake Matthew's heart. He felt as if someone had knotted his limbs together around his heart. His grip around the pills was tense. Matthew felt that if he let go of his grip, he would fall on the ground and lose all sense of dignity. Eventually though, he brought his fist to his mouth and let the pills descend into his mouth. He swallowed two of them before starting to choke. He coughed for about ten minutes as he desperately tried to make himself a glass of water. He spitted out the remaining pills in the sink and for a second, caught his reflection in the mirror.

He saw the circles under his eyes, his pale skin and dry hair. He looked like utter shit. He looked the way he felt. Matthew smiled slightly at the thought. He didn't know if it was the pills or the surreal feel of the situation, but he felt like laughing. And for the first time in months, he did. He chuckled softly to himself, returned to his bedroom and crashed on the bed. His sleep was once again dreamless.

After that, Matthew decided that pills weren't for him. He had honestly felt like he was going to die during his coughing fit and the Canadian hadn't enjoyed the feeling. As depressed as he imagined himself to be, he didn't like the idea of death. He sometime entertained the thought that he felt this way about death because he was dead inside. A bit melodramatic but a little melodrama never hurt anybody.

A couple months had passed and, before he knew it, it was time for another world meeting. In Denmark this time. During the six hour-long flight, Matthew imagined how the meeting would go. He could already see himself being ignored and put aside. Really, it was a wonder he still bothered showing up! Would people even notice? Probably not…

On the day following his arrival in Copenhagen, Matthew decided to skip a world meeting for the first time since he was allowed to attend. He spent the day sightseeing, enjoying the attractions and the thrill of rebellion that had invaded his spirit. He didn't receive one single call from his family or coworkers inquiring about his absence.

As the sun started to set down, Matthew found himself on the roof of his hotel room. He wasn't allowed to be there of course but as an invisible person, he could pretty much get away with anything. He was sitting on the edge, contemplating the sky.

He thought about his hardships. He thought about his general feeling of tiredness. He thought about his "sickness".

"What's the point?" He asked out loud, looking at the falling sun.

He slowly got up, still looking at the sun. A sudden noise made him freeze in his tracks. Someone was heavily breathing behind him; someone that had obviously been running.

"STOP! DON'T DO IT!"

Matthew frowned and turned around, suddenly looking up into a pair of shinning red eyes. He was mesmerized for a second or so before he realized that it was Prussia who was facing him.

"You have so much to live for, so many people who love you (even if they are stupid most of the time), so many reasons to stay! You…" Gilbert sounded terrified and sad. There was an unusual tremor in his voice as he struggled to find the right words. The Canadian didn't like it. This sudden vulnerability in the Prussian's voice didn't fit him. So Matthew interrupted him.

"I know."

Prussia looked at him, confused.

"You…know?"

Matthew nodded and smiled before lowering his head.

"I…I wasn't planning to jump you idiot! I just wanted to appreciate the sunset."

"Oh." Prussia felt so stupid at the moment. He wanted to bang his hand against a wall repeatedly. "I'm sorry. It's just that…when you didn't show up at the meeting, I…"

"You noticed?" The Canadian's eyes were unreadable.

"Of course I did. We were all worried about you. You could have called or something! Where you sick? Is that why you didn't come?" Prussia then seemed to realize that he was rambling and abruptly stopped talking.

"No, I wasn't sick." He _wasn't. _"I just…I felt that it wouldn't make a difference if I came to the meeting or not. So I didn't. And you know what? It did make a difference."

Prussia was confused by the last statement but decided not to show it. He was too awesome to be confused. He pulled the Canadian closer to him (and away from the ledge) and pushed a strand of hair back behind the boy's ear. Matthew saw it as an invitation to explain himself.

"You know, for the longest time, I thought I was depressed." At these words, Gilbert tensed slightly. "It sure felt like it. I was just so tired. So, so tired. So I tried to be depressed. I really did try. Even today, when I skipped the meeting. But you know what?" Matthew suddenly looked up at him, his eyes still unreadable. "I'm _sick _of being depressed. I don't really care if people forget me most of the time or if they act as though I'm invisible. I just want to be happy. The only person who can make me happy is myself."

Prussia smiled at the boy.

"That's why you are the only other nation awesome enough to hangout with me. Only awesome people don't need other people to be happy." Then, the Prussian became a bit hesitant. "But you know…maybe you could let someone else make you happy too. Someone awesome enough of course."

Time seemed to freeze for a second as the two men gauge the other's reaction.

"Do…do you want to make me happy, Prussia?" Matthew felt extremely ridiculous as he said this. He was blushing and wasn't able to look at Gilbert in the eye.

"I do. Do you want to make me happy too?"

Matthew looked up and grinned.

"I do."

And then they kissed, sealing the deal.


End file.
